The Secret Life Of Benjamin Jones
by DashingJetBlack
Summary: Total departure for me. First attempt at fic for this show. Set after Blood Wedding so features Troy. DS Ben Jones has a somewhat double life that he prefers to hide from his boss. However his predecessor objects and clashes begin to occur..
1. Chapter 1

**The Secret Life Of Benjamin Jones**

_This is totally new territory for me. I've always liked the show Midsomer Murders and I don't think I'd be good enough to write a new mystery even though I adore whodunnits and crime dramas. OK. I'm lying. I just happen to find Ben Jones (Jason Hughes) hot as fuck and after seeing him showering in two episodes (Oblong Murders especially...SWOON)..well yes. _

_Only trouble I'm facing is lack of a slash partner for him. Actually...Troy was nice looking...even if he was a bit of a douchebag. _

_I've not seen a vast amount of episodes so this is set just after one I watched recently - Blood Wedding from 2008. Ben was extra sassy in that episode which I liked ;) Contains references to that episode by the way. _

_Not affiliated with the long running ITV series or the works of Caroline Graham. Just based upon it purely for entertainment. Only own the short term character 'Mark'._

* * *

DS Ben Jones had seen plenty in his time as sidekick to the workaholic yet always easygoing DCI Tom Barnaby. Brutal beatings, crimes of passion, incest, families who off loved ones for money...art forgery...you name it, Ben had seen it. Behind the chocolate box facade of these genteel villages lay corruption and criminality that was worse than inner city London.

Currently he and his boss were investigating three brutal murders involving the aristocratic, old English Fitzroy family in the village of Bledlow. Whilst Cully was getting married. And Ben was getting close to the Fitzroy's shapely housekeeper Sally. Well. He was trying to, mainly to keep up appearances.

As if Ben didn't feel enough of an outcast being Welsh in this most Middle English of English counties, he was also trying to keep his true intentions away from his boss. Tom and Joyce had been so good to him, they were almost like second parents. And he swore Cully treated him like a brother. Not that he was interested in pursuing her. She was blonde, tall and pretty but a) screwing the boss's daughter was an absolute no-no, and b) well, she was getting married.

And Ben wasn't actually interested in women.

Despite kissing Sally.

If he was honest he'd have been more into that younger Fitzroy brother. But this family of upper class pricks were so uncooperative and snotty, especially that Colquhoun (whom Ben took enormous pleasure in winding up by mispronouncing his name on purpose).

Cully's wedding eventually went off almost without a hitch, and Tom managed to be there in time to walk his daughter down the aisle. Ned Fitzroy had been apprehended for the murders of the bridesmaid Marina, his secret half brother and former housekeeper. Ben was still left feeling a bit of an idiot as he'd gone to arrest the other one at the same time...well it wasn't a total waste of time. He'd got to touch him. Closest he'll ever get to a bit of posh. Not that Ben was normally predatory..

* * *

At last Ben could chill out at the wedding reception. Lord knows he needed to after this case. He swore that's all the upper classes were about. Money, honour and sex. Better to be a commoner, that's all he'll say. Colky-hun indeed. What a dick.

He was stood at the bar of the hotel, beer in hand, watching the guests at large. He'd even invited Sally as his plus one to complete the image and Joyce just wouldn't stop gushing over what a nice couple they made. She'd already invited them over for dinner whilst Cully and Simon were in New Zealand. She was so predictable. There was a few nice looking guys here that caught his eye.

He was so sick of one night stands though. He was edging closer to forty than thirty now and he really would have liked to have settled down by now. So many of his ex shags had been turned on by doing a copper but turned off by the working hours. He did wonder how Joyce remained so chilled and friendly despite Tom spending more time working than he ever did at home.

"Not going to ask her to dance?" came a voice.

Speak of the devil.

"Oh...hi Joyce," Ben replied.

"She's a lovely girl that Sally," his boss's wife beamed, "Maybe you'll be next to walk up the aisle!"

"I don't think so...not known her that long," Ben said, cheeks rather pink and smiling, "And the boss doesn't approve anyway because I met her on a case."

"Take no notice of Tom," giggled Joyce, "It's about time you got yourself a girlfriend!"

"She might not be into the marrying a copper thing..." Ben trailed off before re-engaging brain, "I don't think she'd be another you..."

"Such a sweet boy, I always liked you Ben," the boss' wife replied, clearly alittle merry on the champagne, "You could always impress her with your beautiufl tenor..."

Ben blushed again.

He'll never forget the time she caught him singing in the shower and roped him into joining the village choir contest. OK they won that competition thanks to Bullard moonlighting as a conductor but still...it was what, two years ago now?

"I gotta...go..." he mumbled, eager to escape this interrogation. He made a beeline for the gents.

This was so embarrassing.

How much longer could he keep this up? Sally had twigged him to be gay after their date. She'd even AGREED to be his beard for the wedding! Wonder if he could slip away...go to the Boathouse in Causton...the area's only gay pub. For miles. Unless you headed for Brighton that is. But that'd be pretty crap form, buggering off to Brighton to get a shag because you can't take the heat of your boss's wife asking about your love life..anyway.

Ben studied his reflection.

Hmmm.

Unbuttoned his shirt a little.

He could be in better shape, but being on the job so often meant unlike most other gay men his age he couldn't live in the gym sculpting the perfect deltoids. But he'd never had any complaints. Especially about his arse.

The door opened and Ben pretended to wash his hands, trying not to look like he was hiding in case it was a full of beer and bonhomie Tom.

"I saw you," came a male voice.

"Who wants to know?" spluttered Ben.

He turned to see a man, about Cully's age staring at him. Damn he was nice. Ben had been guilty for checking him out during the speeches. Slightly posh. One of Cully's old pals from uni probably. She did go to Cambridge.

Well kept features, chiselled jaw, piercing blue eyes. Ben smiled apologetically.

"Didn't think there'd be anyone on our bus here," the man smirked, "Certainly not any of the coppers."

"Like coppers do you?" Ben chanced.

"Depends," the man purred. His suit concealed an extremely fit body.

"On what?" Ben said.

"Uniform or plain clothes?" the man asked.

"Plain," Ben said, "Like uniform do you?"

"Well doesn't matter once it's on the floor," smirked the man, getting into Ben's space and stroking his cheek. Ben stared into his eyes.

"You staying here?" he asked.

"Yep," the man replied.

"Can't let them see me leave with you, got a reputation you know," Ben grinned, leaning forward to claim the guy's lips. Damn this guy kissed nice. Fancied himself a bit but who the hell cared?

* * *

Gavin Troy had to admit it had been weird to come back to Midsomer after all this time. Cully looked happy. She had been nice (and a good kisser) but not worth straining the good relationship he'd had with DCI Barnaby. And as usual the forbidden girls always were the best looking. Cully suited long hair. Ah well. That was the past.

He wouldn't have missed this wedding for the world.

His second successor...what was his name? Jones? Bit wet if you asked Troy. Nice enough bloke, he supposed. Just a little boring. Nice looking girlfriend he had though. What was her name? Sally? Red hair?

Again she was taken. Never mind.

He hadn't come back to his old boss's daughter's wedding to get laid. He'd gotten married after his promotion but it hadn't worked out. Amicable but his ex wife just couldn't get along with his long hours. Maybe it was best to marry into the force. He headed to the gents to go for a slash.

As he entered the bathroom, whistling inanely to himself, he could have sworn he heard something.

Nah.

The stall was locked.

He heard a stifled laugh.

OK.

Weird.

Maybe someone watching a funny video on their phone.

THinking nothing of it, Gavin went to wash his hands.

As he grabbed some paper towels, he slipped a little and with a loud clatter, his own phone fell from his inside jacket pocket. THe damn thing had only gone and got a hole! ANd he'd paid bloody good cash for this suit and all. Oh well. He kneeled down to retreive his phone which had fallen on the terracotta tiles near the stall. Gavin quickly reached over, not wanting to be caught like this...when he realised those were two pairs of shoes between the partition and the floor.

Yuck.

Fucking bumboys!

Didn't think Barnaby KNEW any?! He knew CUlly had a 'gay best friend' at Uni but that was AGES ago! Well eight years or so but still...seriously? At a wedding? In a hotel bathroom? Classy or what.

Gavin darted from the bathroom in disgust.

* * *

Inside, Ben and his conquest were both gasping, red in the face after being caught out.

"Knew we should have gone to my room!" the posh man said, "Horny little fucker! Suppose being on the job keeps you from getting some."

"Damn right," Ben panted as the man pulled out of him, "Sorry mate. Maybe another time. How long you down here for?"

"Only another day, then back to Cambridge," the guy said, "But...if you want an encore later..."

"Hell yes," Ben smirked, "Only, I should ask what is your name?"

"Mark," the man said, redressing, "And I can't keep calling you copper can I?"

"Name's Ben...Ben Jones," Ben said, "I'll get you a beer...to say sorry."

"With an arse like yours there's no sorry," smirked Mark, playfully spanking Ben's smooth, naked backside, "See you later."

He unlocked the door and left the room as Ben made himself a touch more decent.

He padded to the mirror. A lovebite. Mark was rough. But that wasn't a bad thing. Ben liked to be roughed up. Suppose it came with wearing a suit for the job. Even if it was a 24 hour fling, it was nice. He hastily shuffled his shirt collar up to hide the hickey and exited the bathroom.

* * *

Gavin Troy was watching to see who the shirtlifters were...that posh git friend of Cully...thought as much...and wait...that was Barnaby's current sidekick! Did Barnaby KNOW?

Troy wasn't an arsehole, well he liked to think he wasn't. But he just didn't understand poofters. Gays, whatever. He remembered Dennis Rainbird from years ago. God he was a freak. OK he was dead but still, Gavin had been freaked out by him. And Jones to be fair did seem a normal sort of bloke. Not dancing around like Graham Norton. Gavin took a deep breath and headed to the bar just as Ben did.

Ben nodded pleasantly at him.

"Having a good day?" asked Gavin, failing to keep the snark from his voice.

Ben fixed him with a curious look.

"Yeah...Cully looked great," he said, "Didn't you and her..."

"Ancient history mate," Gavin said, "What you getting?"

"Another beer, anything," Ben said, straightening his tie a little, "So...miss all this?"

"What? Same in my current post," Gavin said, "Now tell me, is Joyce's food any better?"

Ben chuckled.

"She tried to impress you with her roast quail as well?" he said.

Gavin also chuckled. This guy wasn't bad. For a bum bandit.

"So, how long you been with your girlfriend?" he challenged.

Ben squirmed. Ouch. Mark was big downstairs. And he guessed instantly Troy was fishing. Being a detective tended to make you recognise this in others.

Gavin spotted the guilty shuffle. OK maybe Jones wasn't such a nice bloke. Playing with men behind his girlfriend's back.

"She's...just a friend," Ben said.

"I saw you holding her hand in the church," Gavin went on, "Nice girl. Well spoken."

"Met Sally on the last case," Ben replied, "SHe was the Fitzroy's housekeeper."

"Oh the impaled maid of honour? The old families are always the worst," Gavin said, "Boss doesn't like hookups with witnesses."

"Interested in my lovelife aren't you...mate?" Ben said.

"Cut the crap, Jones," Gavin hissed, "I know you were bumming in that toilet just now! I dropped my phone and saw you at it! Boss will kill you."

"Bumming? Seriously, are you at school still or something?" Ben was scarlet but defiant.

"Does he know? Does your girlfriend know?"

"Does Barnaby know you still want his daughter?" hit back Ben.

"You're a prick," Gavin spat, "A shirtlifting prick."

Troy and Jones stared one another down. Ben was SO tempted to punch this Northern arsehole right in the smug face. He knew nothing about him!

But a brawl would just be a bad idea.

Ben stormed off to sit down somewhere else; Gavin continuing to glower at him from the bar.

"Where have you been?" asked a female voice as a swish of white floated down next to him.

"Oh hi Cully," Ben said, "Just...mingling."

"See you've met Gavin," she said, "He can be a bit...abrupt. Barks worse than his bite, Dad always said. Never forgave him for kissing me but that was ancient history!"

"Did you know a guy called Mark at Uni?" asked Ben.

Cully giggled.

She didn't need to do too much maths to work this one out.

"Oh come on Ben, out with it," she said, "You told me, you surely need to tell Dad by now."

"But what's it got to do with work? He thinks I'm going out with Sally Fielding now and doesn't ask questions."

"I wondered where Mark had gone...bad boys," giggled Cully, "He does like policemen. That's how we made friends..."

"He wasn't after your dad surely?" Ben was shocked.

"He likes older men," Cully said, "Except that I said that no way would I let that happen. He always was a bit of a bad boy."

"What does he do?" asked Ben.

"Don't suppose you got down to that stage did you?" scoffed Cully, "He's a hotelier for one of the nicest hotels in Cambridge. I should warn you...he's a player. He's one of my best friends. But he's a player. Don't expect marriage."

"Not looking for marriage right now," Ben shrugged.

"Surely soon, right?" Cully said, "At least act like you are...keeps mum from nosing. Bless her. See you later."

She got to her feet and went to go mingle with some more guests. Ben glanced across the tables and spotted Mark. Who caught his eye and winked. Ben should have given him his number.

Ben grinned back.

Mark made a subtle gesture with his hand.

Ben gaped.

Mark made it again.

"I can't!" mouthed Ben.

Yes he could. He was off duty. He'll make an exit. Finish what they started in more comfortable surroundings. He got to his feet and shuffled across the dance floor, past the buffet table and towards the exit, mainly before his boss or Joyce spotted him and asked questions. He tapped a text to Sally.

_Hey. Met someone. If boss asks make something up. Thanks 4 coming. See you soon x_

Sally replied instantly.

_Trust u! Fine OK. Don't wear yourself out Xx_

Ben chuckled to himself. He had a few months of frustration to work out so that was no problem. That was the downside of being a sergeant. Playtime was somewhat limited. He slipped into the foyer. Mark wasn't there.

The man appeared a few minutes later.

"Good boy," he smirked.

"Watch it," Ben said, "I'm older than you, remember."

"Truncheon away copper, you're off duty," smirked Mark.

He was so cheesy but Ben liked that. Made light of the darker moments of being in CID. He followed this well groomed and hot posh guy up the stairs until they located Mark's hotel room. Immediately Ben's lips were claimed and he was fiercely kissing back, making fast work of Mark's suit...damn...toned pecs, defined abs...Ben was starting to feel self conscious. He undressed anyway and allowed Mark to pull him onto the bed where they ground their bodies together fervently.

Ben crawled down the toned, muscled body and took his hookup's length into his mouth.

* * *

Next morning Ben awoke to his mobile ringing.

He rubbed his eyes.

He hadn't slept much.

And his arse was pleasantly sore.

Mark was a brute.

Just what he needed.

He took his phone and pushed answer.

"Jones.." he grumbled.

"Jones! Where the hell are you?" barked Tom's voice.

"Sir...sorry...must have slept in late..." Ben mumbled guiltily.

"You were expected at the station half an hour ago!" Tom snapped, "I hope that Sally Fielding isn't going to be making you late!"

"Sorry sir...I'll be there," Ben said, insides burning with guilt. Ooops. Still at least that prick Troy hadn't blabbed to Barnaby about him. He found his briefs (yes, so what, you couldn't see them under his work clothes) and slipped them on. Actually, where was Mark?

No sign of anything.

As Ben dressed he realised he had a text message.

He opened it.

_Hi copper ;) Had a great night. Like to see you again sometime. Had to dash off early, rota cock up. Sorry x_

Charming. Fucked him and then fucked off. Wasn't the first time that had happened. Ben hurriedly dressed before leaving the hotel room. At least a chambermaid didn't catch him asleep or something. How embarrassing would THAT be?

He rushed down into the foyer and out into the car park, looking for his grey Ford Focus. He couldn't drive to Causton fast enough. At least he'd missed the rush hour traffic. Ben parked up, sprinted through the doors and hurrying to CID. The place went quiet. He was never late. And certainly never showed up unshaven and in last night's clothes...

"Ah, Jones, nice of you to drop in," snarked Tom.

"Sir," mumbled Ben, sinking into his seat.

"A word if you don't mind?" Tom's deadpan tone failed to mask his annoyance. He'd expected so much more of Jones than to gallivant around with young pretty housekeepers. Unbecoming of a detective sergeant. But then was everyone as workaholic as him? He supposed he was getting old.

Like a schoolboy off to see the headmaster, Ben skulked behind his boss into Tom's office and shut the door.

He could feel the snickers of their colleagues boring through the glass. Especially Gail Stephens who nursed a crush on Ben and was pigsick with jealousy when she'd found out he'd got with Sally Fielding and taken HER to Cully's wedding.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Barnaby.

"Overslept that's all, sir."

"You got into a fight with Troy at Cully's wedding and all," Barnaby hissed.

"Hardly" scoffed Ben.

"It doesn't help that there's been rumours flying around the station all morning," Barnaby went on.

Ben gulped.

What rumours?

He'd tried to slip out of the reception as discreetly as he could last night. And it wasn't his fault Mark was such good sex he'd decided to stay to enjoy room service and then a sexy shower...and then round two much later...OK maybe it was.

"Rumours, sir?"

"Never mind," snapped Barnaby, "You were supposed to be in at ten to write up the Fitzroy case. I don't want you seeing that Sally Fielding anymore. You're thirty-six years old and a detective sergeant, not a teenager. Not to mention she was a witness. What if it had been a crime scene?!"

"Sorry sir. Won't happen again."

"I should think not. Now get on with the writeup."

"Any developments since Sir Edward's arrest and charge sir?"

"No. He's given a statement and case is closed. Now get back to your work Jones."

"Sir."

Ben left, face burning. Well and truly told off. At least his boss...for now...didn't know the truth. That he'd been up most of the night being shagged by his boss's daughter's old Uni friend. Male uni friend. Ha.

* * *

The writeup took longer than it should. Ben's mind kept drifting away to Mark. Would he be able to see Mark again? Causton was hardly a big pond of available fish. It was idyllic other than that problem. Which was why Ben was craving a long term partner. He was sick of travelling to Brighton or surrounding counties after cruising on Gaydar. But he couldn't keep all his eggs in one basket. Small rural towns were gossip haven.

At last Ben finished the write up. He saved the file and printed it. Just in time for lunch.

Once he'd filed it and labelled it in the correct manner, he padded nervously to Barnaby's office. Feeling once more like the kid handing his homework to the teacher.

He knocked.

"Come in."

"Sir...the Fitzroy case all written up."

"Thank you Jones. Fancy a pub lunch?"

"Er...OK sir.."

"The tired cheese sandwiches get a bit samey don't you think Jones?"

Tom did have a strange wit sometimes. But he wasn't the most adventerous diner. Still if they served chicken pie at this pub...

"Er...sure sir."

"SKipping breakfast isn't the best practice either."

"Any reason for this pub lunch sir?"

"Just a catch up with an old colleague."

Ben scowled.

Not that prick Troy?

"Problem, Jones?"

"Not at all sir."

* * *

**Fairly pleased with how this went. You can see possibly where this is going. I've only touched upon what Ben is like outside of policing (maybe I should watch more episodes...I know he's also a former Freemason) and that's obviously totally invented by me. I like to imagine he's a bit of a naughty boy in the sack as well ;) The OC Mark won't appear again, he was just a device to show how Ben gets his man. I thought I'd just tie him in loosely by making him an old uni friend of Cully. I like the idea that Cully is Ben's fag hag!**

**Been easier to write than I first thought! Seen enough episodes to write in the quirks of the characters, like Joyce not being the best cook, Tom being a meat and two veg sort of guy etc. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_Starting to get into this now. Been such a refreshing change from my usual WWE fare. And much easier to write Brit English than American English as well!_

_Another brief OC character but with this genre I imagine it's OK. Especially now ideas are flooding in. After all, this stems from a crime drama. This chapter is a bit naughtier and is why I gave this an M rating._

* * *

"Bledlow again sir? Thought you'd seen enough of this place?" Ben remarked as his boss's black Jaguar X-Type pulled in outside a pretty redbrick building with ivy festooning the outside.

"The Red Lion, thought the menu sounded good," Barnaby said, "Though I can't deny I have seen enough of this village."

"So why here sir?"

"Told you, meeting an old colleague," Barnaby replied, switching the engine off and climbing out.

"Yeah...you did mention it," Ben muttered, also exiting the black saloon and following his elder boss inside.

It was a charming little pub, Ben admitted. All claret carpets, timber framed walls, exposed beams and dark, cosy little corners. Unless his boss was taking him on a date...no, don't be so paranoid.

A tall dark man was standing at the bar, nursing a pint.

"Troy," Tom said in greeting.

"Afternoon sir," grinned Gavin shaking Tom's hand, "See you brought your assistant along."

He couldn't fail to hide the resentment in his voice. Tom noted this. He was determined these two will get along during this. He was too old to be caught in the middle of some stupid petty dispute.

"Afternoon...Troy," snarked Ben, offering his hand to that jumped up prick he'd met yesterday.

Gavin shook it, briefly scowling. Cocky dickhead. Fucking queer. And he was wearing yesterday's clobber. Bet he was up all night bumming that posh twerp friend of Cully's. Disgusting.

"So how long until you head back to...where is it you're posted again?" asked Tom.

"Brackhampton CID," Gavin said, "Annual leave. Got the rest of this week off. Even turned my work phone off. Wanted a break."

"Admire you for that Troy, being able to disconnect from the force," Tom said, ordering drinks and paying.

"You did leave your own wedding early to work," Gavin replied, "Wonder how long before someone else gets offed and you'll have to go?"

"Brackhampton boring is it?" asked Tom.

"Well...yes and no," Gavin said, "Kinda miss finding out the dirty dealings of the WI and the country set though. Gets a bit boring having to bang up kids knifing one another over what slags they got pregnant this week. Or nicking schoolkids for a few bags of weed."

"Inner city Troy, comes with the territory," Tom said.

"Last case was really fucked up," Gavin replied, "Surprised it didn't make national news, this dirty old PE teacher was touching up lads...been doing it on and off since the early Nineties. Latest lad he was knocking off said no...so he cut him limb from limb."

"Thought you said Brackhampton was boring?" Tom raised an eyebrow. After decades investigating the most gruesome of killings it was rare for tales like this to shock him. He noted Jones was looking uncomfortable.

"Wouldn't call it exciting, it was like the Moors Murders...he'd got two more lads buried in his back garden," Gavin said grimly, "Partly why I took leave. This case fucked me up. Dirty fucking shirtlifter. Always the PE teachers, haven't you noticed? Can't get any elsewhere so go to schools for easy pickings."

Ben had heard enough. He slammed his pint glass on the table and stormed out of the pub in disgust. He could see the smirk just lifting the corner of Troy's mouth the whole he was telling Tom about this 'last case'. Bet it was all a load of bullshit just to get his hackles raised! Bastard.

If Ben smoked he'd probably be lighting three at a time right now just to simmer down. Either that or glass that dickhead's face in. Maybe it was tiredness making him more irritable.

He leaned on the peeling whitewashed low fence of the pub and huffed.

"Not want to be here?" asked a voice.

Ben looked up at the barman who'd snuk out for a quick cigarette.

"Well didn't want to say no the boss," he admitted, "Can I have one...don';t usually.."

"Course mate," the barman said, offering Ben the box.

The Welshman took it and the lighter the guy offered and lit up. He hadn't smoked in a while and thanked his lucky stars he didn't start hacking like a preteen trying their first fag.

"You were one of the coppers sniffing round the Fitzroys," remarked the barman.

"Yeah, ugh, upper classes," huffed Ben, "All shagging around and toffee noses. Yuck. Old money doesn't buy taste."

"Didn't fancy our new Lady Fitzroy then?" grinned the barman.

"Who? Beth? Nah," Ben said, grinning back.

"Better get back to your boss," replied the barman, stubbing his cigarette out and heading inside. Ben quickly disposed of his before reluctantly rejoining Tom and Troy.

"Feeling ill Jones?" remarked Tom.

"Just wanted some air," Ben said, burying his head in the menu.

"I bet you did," snarked Troy.

Ben huffed, shaking his head. This guy was a pain in the arse. He didn't need this.

Tom was trying not to notice the daggers his former and current sidekicks were shooting one another. Grown men acting like squabbling kids. He couldn;'t understand what the problem was. They seemed to hit it off at the wedding. Until Cully mentioned they were quarrelling at the bar. Wonder what about? Probably a woman. It's what men usually fought over. Or money.

"Another drink?" Ben said loudly, slamming his menu down.

"No thanks...mate," sneered Troy.

"Sure," Barnaby said amiably, "Thank you Jones."

"Trying to get back into your good books sir," Troy went on. He was having far too much fun taking the piss out of that queer. He was off duty. He could behave how he wanted (within legal reasons obviously. Not like Jones could punch him as he was on duty).

Ben wished he wasn't working as he could murder something stronger than a half pint of this local ale.

"Two orange juices please," he said.

"On duty?" asked the barman.,

"Always," sighed Ben.

"Four fifty please," the barman said. Ben handed him a tenner. As the till rung, Ben thought he was taking a bit too long with the change. The barman placed the coins into Ben';s hand and tipped him the wink.

Ben tipped the change back into his wallet and noted a scrap of paper with a mobile number on.

He looked incredulously up at the barman.

The barman smiled.

"I get off at two," he said.

Ben grinned back.

"On duty till eight," he replied.

"Be naughty, go on," hissed the barman.

"Can't...boss will see me."

"And then he might spank you for being a bad boy," grinend the barman.

Ben blushed and grinned back. Had he been THAT obvious when they walked in?

He leaned over the bar.

"How could you tell?" he asked.

"Saw your profile on Gaydar," the barman said.

"Oh, did you now," Ben beamed, "Like what you see then?"

"Very much," the barman said, "Hear you like to sing too."

"Shush, boss can see," giggled Ben. Wait did he just GIGGLE? Oh shit. He was terrible. His hormones must still be racing after the seeing to he got last night. Twice in two days. Men were like buses sometimes.

"Hurry up Jones before we get called away," Barnaby called.

Ben smiled apologetically at the barman who made a 'call me' gesture at him as he got busy wiping the beer pumps down, showing a hint of flexing bicep as he did so. Ben nodded eagerly before sitting back down.

"Know him do you?" asked Tom sharply.

"No," Ben said, "Ooh what's on the specials board?"

He was flustered. And when he got flustered a touch of campness and a heavier Welsh brogue left him.

Gavin just pursed his lip. That guy was a slag and all. Even HE never chatted girls up whilst on duty. Most of the time. His poor girlfriend.

* * *

Amazingly, they managed to actually finish lunch without a single call to Tom's phone. Or Ben's. Tom noted that for some reason this only ever seemed to happen when he was trying to have a meal with Joyce. And this chicken pie was rather good. Dare he say it, better than Joyce's. No. Be easier all round if he pretended hers was the best. Something about Jones was off. He couldn't tell what it was. The guy had NEVER been late before. He'd had girlfriends as far as Tom knew but he'd never not shown up because of one. And he was acting different. Why was he so hostile to Troy? He knew Troy could have a big mouth but Tom never thought Jones to be so, well, sensitive. He didn't expect his juniors to tell him everything about their personal lives but Jones had eaten at his and Joyce's home often enough for Joyce to fuss over him like a mother hen.

As they cleared their plates, Tom left to make a phone call to CID.

Leaving Gavin and Ben alone.

"Don't you wanna knock off and shag the barman, queerboy?" snarled Gavin.

"You know nothing about me...mate," snapped Ben.

"I know enough," Gavin replied, "What did you tell your girlfriend last night then?"

"She's not my bloody girlfriend...not that its any of your business!" Ben scowled.

"So you're using her to prevent Barnaby finding out you're a fag!" Gavin said incredulously, "When you were fucking giving your number to that bloke behind the bar who's probably got a wife and kids!"

"Why are you so interested in my love life, huh?" challenged Ben, folding his arms, "Anyone would think you wanted a piece of me yourself."

"Urgh, please...I've just eaten," spat Gavin, "What is it with you homos, huh? Convinced every other bloke on the planet's one as well! You're obsessed."

"Grow up...Inspector," sneered Ben.

He checked his phone. Two o' clock already.

He got to his feet. Fuck it. He was going to take the barman up on his offer.

"Where you going?" demanded Gavin.

"Police business," lied Ben, "And because you make me sick."

"Barnaby will murder you."

"I'm sure he'll cope without me for a while," Ben said, throwing a twenty pound note onto the table to pay for his share of lunch. He was playing with so much fire right now. But anything to get away from this dickhead Troy. Ben hadn't wanted to punch a guy's head in so bad since that Randall Colquhoun. Oh arresting him had been so much fun. He wondered how old Colky-hown was doing mixing with the peasant herds in jail. How did Barnaby stand this guy? And what the hell had Cully seen in him? Ben didn't know. Or care right now.

He pulled his jacket on over his gold waistcoat from the wedding and left the pub. He reached into his pocket and took out the piece of paper with the number on it. He dialled.

"Hello?"

"Hi..it's me..._you gave_ me this number just now."

"Oh...sexy copper. I live on Yewtree Drive. Not far."

"Walking distance?"

"Yeah. See you soon."

"See ya."

Ben knew that this sort of hooking up was archaic these days but with the potential of the next big murder showing up any minute he had to make the most of every encounter. He'll take the bollocking from Barnaby later. He walked down the quiet lane until he saw the sign for Yewtree Drive. He walked up the small street of houses...all three of them.

He dialled the number again.

"Hi sexy," drawled the barman.

"Hi...what one is it?"

"Number two."

"Cool."

Ben hung up and knocked the door of number two. Should have guessed with the two seater parked outside really. The door opened and the handsome blonde barman answered.

"Hi," Ben said.

"Hi...come on in."

Ben wiped his feet and stepped over the threshold.

"Tea?" asked the barman.

"Sure..thanks," Ben said, "You know I may not be able to stay long...boss will wonder where I am."

"Sneak away eh? You are a naughty boy!" chuckled the barman.

"Suppose it's a bit late to ask your name seeing as I'm in your house," Ben quipped, placing his shoes by the door.

"Timothy Fowler...call me Tim," the barman said, walking into the smartly appointed (and very modern) kitchen. No straight man would have a house this immaculately decorated, Ben thought; "What's yours?"

"Ben Jones, AKA Detective Sergeant Jones," Ben replied.

"Cute," Tim said, "Sarge."

"Please don't," Ben sighed, "Call me Ben."

"Sugar, Ben?" asked Tim.

"Yeah.." Ben replied.

"Join me upstairs?"

"Sure..."

OK this wasn't normally how it went. But some guys had weird little things, Ben had found in his time.

Once the tea was made, Ben followed Tim upstairs into the bedroom. Beautifully kept and furnished of course. There was a photo on the wall. A professional family portrait. Tim looked very different. He was sat with a very attractive brunette woman and two mousy haired young girls.

"Who's that?" asked Ben.

"My wife Brigitte and daughters," Tim said.

Ben choked on the hot tea.

"Wife...and daughters?!" he spluttered.

"Ex wife," Tim said, a note of melancholy in his voice, "It's an old photo."

"1989? How old are you?" gasped Ben.

"I married young," TIm sighed, "I'm fifty. That put you off?"

"No way..." gasped Ben, "You look good for it...what happened to er...Brigitte?"

"Left me," sighed Tim, "She caught me with the milkman."

Ben spat more tea through his nose. Really? The milkman? He thought it was one of those cliched old wives tales. Lord knows he'd heard enough messy affairs in his time. But never the old chestnut of 'she left me for the milkman'. The husband screwing the milkman was a new one.

"I know what you're thinking," Tim sighed, "I like it here in Bledlow."

"Do you still see your girls?" asked Ben.

"Occasionally...it was sixteen years ago now...they're both grown up now. Monica and Sandra. Brigitte still lives in Midsomer Worthy with Sandra. Monica's got a son. I'm a grandad but I'm not allowed to see him. Gets lonely here."

Ben was unsure if this was really what he wanted. He thought it would be just another roll in the hay. But this guy was telling him his life story. Tim was very good looking for fifty. No grey, nice build and well-trimmed goatee.

Tim began to shed his orange polo shirt and fitted slim fit jeans, along with his socks. He was just in tight black designer boxers. One thing Ben was sure of, he looked after himself. He was toned.

"Sit with me Ben," Tim said.

Ben began to undress, figuring that's what Tim wanted. He saw Tim's eyes light up at the sight of his red briefs. Ben was decidedly uncomfortable doing anything under the smiling gaze of Tim's wife and daughters.

"Can you...cover it or something?" asked Ben.

"Why?"

"Because...well..."

"I;m not ashamed of who I was, Sergeant," Tim said, "Are you ashamed?"

"No!"

"Then sit with me, please."

Ben lay on the bed, allowing Tim to put an arm around him.

"How old are you Ben?" asked Tim, peppering Ben's dark hair with kisses.

"THirty six," Ben replied.

"A young un, been a while since I had one," Tim sighed mournfully, kissing Ben's hair some more before moaning and taking Ben's face in his hands before devouring his lips.

Ben moaned in reply. OK this guy might be a bit creepy but damn could he kiss.

And he was flattered at being called a 'young un'.

THese country folk...

Ben knew Barnaby would already be getting suspicious. He had to get a move on. No time for romance. Just get on with it.

He crawled seductively across the bed, bending down, his pert, brief-clad arse facing Tim. He craned his neck, arching his back to shoot a 'come get me' look at the blonde man.

"You are a naughty boy," Tim purred, unable to resist this minx's gaze and yanking Ben's briefs down, causing Ben to moan as Tim began to touch between his legs.

Shit.

Ben realised he had no condoms.

Mark had provided them last night.

Bollocks.

He sat up.

"I can't," he said.

"Why not?" asked Tim.

"No...johnnies."

"I'm allergic to latex...c'mon Benjamin, I'm lonely," Tim said, "I need to love someone again."

Ben shuddered.

Creepy.

But he was horny.

He'll take a risk just this once.

He pinned Tim to the bed and bit on Tim's waistband, yanking the boxers down. Tim just threw his head back and let this little shiny badged vixen go to work.

Ben began to suck Tim off, lubricating him as he did so. He'd been told he was good at head.

* * *

"What do you mean police business, Troy?!" snapped Barnaby, "Tell me where Jones vanished to!"

"I don't know sir," Gavin said, "Honestly, I don't!"

"What did you say to him?" demanded Tom.

"I said nothing! He walked off and told me to tell you to call him. Said it was fine and above board."

Gavin wished he;d not been such a prick now. He didn't particularly want his old boss to be pissed off with him. And if this led to a crime...he was off duty! He could lose his job!

"Well you can help me find him...and when we do...Ben Jones will be lucky to find a job as a cleaner in Causton CID!" snarled Tom, unusually fierce.

"Sure it's nothing sir," Gavin said. This felt almost like old times.

"A detective sergeant on duty sneaks away with telling his chief inspector and gives a false answer! It's a lot more than 'nothing' Troy! Haven't your learned anything?"

"No sir."

"We'll scour this whole bloody village until we find Jones."

Gavin sighed and followed Tom to the Jaguar.

* * *

Ben was on all fours on the foot of the bed, moaning and mewling in ecstasy as his older hookup slowly thrust in and out of him. Tim might be a creep but he was touching Ben's spot so good. He was such an attentive...caring...lover.

"Feel good Benjamin?" purred Tim.

"Oh yeah...don't stop," moaned Ben.

Ben was such a slut. He hadn't done two in two days since training college years.

He had to come soon. Before the fucking search parties were sent out.

He kneeled up so their bodies were now parallel to one another.  
Tim moaned in his ear.

"Good boy..."

Ben was jerking himself off.

Tim slapped his hand away.

"Let me, just enjoy it darling," purred Tim into his ear, slowly thrusting in and out of Ben's perfect arse, closing his fingers around Ben's length and slowly jerking the base. Ben moaned and whined louder. Oh yes...this guy knew how to please. He was getting so close.

So close.

But he had to get out of here.

The risks you take for some good sex.

Tim began to moan louder.

"Ohh...Ben...I can't last..."

Shit.

No.

Mark had made Ben come both times.

Ben began to move his hips back and forth.

"Oh you're a fesity little tart aren't you?" moaned Tim, panting to keep up, still jerking Ben off, "Letting off steam are we?"

"Yeah,...oh yeah..." Ben was now thinking of last night...Mark...how Mark had just thrown him down and destroyed him. Oh yes. Yes.

He cried out as his orgasm exploded through his body, spraying the duvet in front of them.

Tim gasped as he watched his young pickup climax...and it wasn't long before he too, went over the edge, driving inside Ben and climaxing within.

Ben was gasping.

Oh fuck.

He'd jsut let this creep come inside him.

He had to get dressed and get out of here.

Tim pulled out, gasping.

Ben immediately began to furiously dress.

"Where you going? Stay with me!" pleaded Tim.

"You're weird!" Ben spat, "If you've given me anything...you know nothing about me! How do you know I haven't got it!"

"We'd have talked about this in time!" Tim said, "Please...I'm lonely!"

"Ring your bloody wife!" snarled Ben, slamming the door and sprinting down the stairs. He had to high tail the hell out of this gaff. Guess karma had just got him for sneaking off during police time to get laid. Not only was the guy old (albeit young looking for his age) he was a bit...Fatal Attraction. Ben had seen that film. No thanks. He barely had his feet in his black shiny shoes before he was sprinting out of the house onto the street.

He legged it back onto the main high street towards the pub.  
No.

Fuck.

Where was Barnaby's Jag?

Oh bollocks.

Now he'd have to call the boss to face the music.

He took his phone from inside his jacket and dialled, shutting his eyes and holding his breath. Awaiting the firestorm.

"JONES!" roared Barnaby's voice.

"Hello sir..."

"Where the HELL have you been?!"

Ben didn't think he'd seen the boss lose his shit this much. Ever.

"Thought I saw something...turned out to be nothing."

"Likely story! You went back to that Sally Fielding's place didn't you!"

"No sir...!"

"Where the hell are you now?"

"Back at the Red Lion sir.."

"Stay where you are or I'll arrest you for wasting police time!"

The line went dead. Ben knew he was in a shit load of trouble now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_OK I admit it. I'm not going to go for a huge elaborate plot. I think it's obvious where this is headed...cute 30 something copper and the mouthy homophobe...yeah. Haha. Enough OC tricks for Ben now. We'll hop to it. But first, how much trouble is he gonna get into?_

* * *

For the second time that day, DS Ben Jones was sat like a schoolboy in the office at Causton CID whilst getting a telling off from Barnaby.

The detective inspector was pacing the room, his genteel demeanor long gone as he yelled blue murder at his assistant. He couldn't understand Jones' behaviour. Sneaking off, turning up late. Did he want to get fired? Because he was going the right way about it. And what was the picking fights with Troy all about? Tom was convinced they'd get on. Yet they were sniping at each other like kids the entire time.

"Look I've said I was sorry, sir," Ben huffed petulantly.

"Sorry is not enough, Jones! You are already on a warning for last night! I've a good mind to have you struck off after the stunt you pulled today!"

"Whatever."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing sir."

Ben just wanted to get home if he was honest. He'd already deleted creepy Tim's number but he had a horrid feeling the lonely if attractive bachelor was waiting outside the station with chocolates and flowers.

Tom sighed. This was going nowhere. He liked Jones a lot and it would be a shame to lose him over something so petty. Not everything was a crime scene. Jones had a life outside the force. He wasn't quite as much a workaholic.

"Take the next two days off," he said.

"Huh?"

"You heard."

"But sir..."

"Maybe you need time to wind down, Jones. Spend some time with Sally."

Ben huffed again. Jesus.

"I'm not seeing Sally. She was just my plus one for Cully's wedding!"

"Oh I'm sorry Jones. Couldn't she deal with the working hours.."

"Sir...please...I'm in enough shit. Can we just leave this...assuming I'm not fired."

"I'm not losing a good sergeant," Tom said firmly, "But you know you can talk to me if anything's bothering you, right?"

"I will, sir. Now can I go?"

"Certainly."

"Thank you sir."

Ben sighed with relief as he got to his feet. He'd escaped a firing by the skin of his teeth and he knew it. But hey, an unexpected two days off. Maybe he'll bugger off to Brighton. Party like he was a teenager.

* * *

Gail Stephens practically sprang from her chair as Ben left the office.

"Ben? What happened?" she gasped.

"I'm overworked and taking two days off," he said. Well it was mostly true.

"Want to go to the pub? I'm on my half day?"

"I'm fine thanks...sorry. Just want to go stick my feet up."

All the air seemed to drain from Gail. She had a feeling she'd just been what would a few years later be termed 'friendzoned'. She did nurse quite the crush for the cute sergeant.

* * *

Ben made a few more excuses and managed to leave the station without anyone else bothering him.

"Did the boss give you a spanking?" came a scathing Northern accent.

Ben rolled his eyes.

What was that dick Troy still doing here?

"Haven't you got a life?" snapped Ben.

"Got some work to do," Gavin smirked, "So that it then? Barnaby fired your queerboy arse?"

THat did it.

Ben grabbed Troy by his jacket lapels and threw him against the wall hard.

"You gobby little bastard..." he snarled, "I could go right back in there and charge you with harassment."

"Like to see you try," sneered Gavin, "And take your hands off me, perv."

"Wifey not putting out? Thought you might try one last go on Cully and she didn't want anything to do with you so you're picking on me, huh?"

They were nose to nose now.

Ben roughly released Gavin and turned on his heel before stomping to his car, unlocking it and climbing in. He raced the engine as he backed out, spinning the front tyres as he left.

Fuming, Gavin watched the grey Ford speed out of the parking lot, almost colliding with a patrol car on the way out. He wasn;t going to let that go. He wasn't finished. Dusting himself down, he made his way into the station. He had a plan.

* * *

Ben was sat on his sofa in the lounge at his home, his suit in a heap on the floor and now in a comfy pair of sweatpants. He clutched a large Scotch as he idly browsed the Skybox for something to watch. Never anything on. And he couldn't relax. He was expecting his phone to go off any second. Barnaby with another body. His mother.

At least weirdo Tim had got the message.

Shame as Tim hadn't been that bad a shag. Apart from all the loveydovey talk and making them do it in front of the family portrait. Ben shuddered.

It was times like this that the thirty-something sergeant craved a partner. Just someone to chill out with during that oh-so-rare downtime that came with the police job. Ben was half tempted to cruise Gaydar yet again but he thought 3 in 3 days was a touch excessive. He wasn't a young whippersnapper anymore, regardless of the compliments he got on his pert bottom.

But bringing a playmate home might ease some of the tension rather than stolen encounters whilst on duty. He could have sex to his heart's content for the next two days without having to unsatisfyingly speed it up cos of work. He flipped open his laptop (this was 2008. When iPhones were only just coming onto the market and Grindr wasn't a thing yet) and logged onto Gaydar chat. Crusing...south east. See what's what.

OK he'd had at least four of the currently active usernames in here.

That was embarrassing.

Or an ego boost.

All the same Ben found himself removing his baggy tee and sweatpants, remaining in his tight red briefs. Now he felt much sexier. His home. Some of the other officers had made fun of his underwear at work before now when there'd been times he;d had to change there but they just had no taste. They wanted to settle for shapeless and ugly 3-for-aquid Tesco y-fronts that was their issue. Ben looked down at his lightly toned, slender body, his six pack very faint but noticeable. The red briefs fitted his slim waist perfectly, no overhang and showed off his long smooth legs. He was gorgeous. Why didn't he have a boyfriend?

He decided to contribute to the chat. His usual opening line.

ANyone in Causton?

Private message.

Oooh.

He opened it.

_**TimTraveller58**__ hi_

Argh.

Ben checked the profile.

Oh jesus.

He closed the window and signed out.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

Buzz buzz.

_**From: (number)**_

_Hi :) Had a great time earlier x_

Oh bloody hell.

He debated whether to respond. Ah sod it.

_Hi. Sorry you're not my type. Had fun though. Please don't contact me again x_

Block number.

Bitchy? Maybe. But Ben wasn't in the mood.

He necked his Scotch and kicked back on the sofa with a sigh.

He didn't know just how inviting he looked. Shame nobody was there to give him what he deserved.

A knock at the door.

"Really?!" he complained aloud, getting to his feet.

No. Don't answer the door like this. He hurriedly dressed in his top and sweats and padded, grumbling to himself, to the door. THis had better be important. And better not be the boss. He pulled it open.

And nearly slammed it shut again.

"Alright?" It was that dickhead Troy.

Ok. One, how the fuck did he get Ben;s address? And two, that fake smile was cracking his smug bastard face.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Just wanted to come and say sorry."

"How the fuck did you get my address?"

"The boss gave it me."

"He fucking WHAT.."

"Got a bit of trade inside 'ave ya? Don't let me interrupt."

"Piss off."

"C'mon...mate."

"I'm not your mate. You just happened to be my predecessor. And I'm off duty. Bye."

"Wait..." Gavin stopped the door from being shut in his face, "Please?" He hoped his voice sounded a bit softer.

Ben growled and huffed.

"FINE!" he hissed, "But make it quick."

"Cheers."

Gavin casually strolled in.

"Wipe your feet.." snarled Ben.

"Oh soz."

Gavin hastily removed his shoes and strolled into the living room.

"Nice place," he remarked, making himself comfortable on the armchair, "Couldn't make us a brew could ya?"

Ben glowered at him.

"DOn't push your luck, Troy."

"Only asked."

"This is my bloody house."

"Jesus no wonder you're single, a right little bitch really aintcha?"

"Actually I could get anyone I wanted."

"Not many bumboys in Causton."

"I manage OK."

Ben grumpily clicked on the kettle and set about making tea. Suppose it was some company. Even if the company in question was a cocky little shit. He wandered back into the living room and flopped down on the sofa.

Be nice if this prick actually said sorry.

"Cheers mate," Gavin smirked.

"So. Aren't you scared you might get AIDs from my chair?" snarled Ben.

"C'mon, I'm sorry..."

"Oh you are? That'd be a first."

"Jesus you bear a grudge."

"You hate gays. And I'm gay. See the problem?"

"Told the boss yet?"

"No."

"Don't you think you should?"

"What do you care? You're probably wanting to chuck up right now. Why do you hate gays so much Troy?"

Gavin shrugged.

"Scared you might be one?"

"Fuck you."

"No thanks. Your dick's probably small."

Ben sipped his tea as the look of fury raged on Gavin's face. He could be as sassy and bitchy as he liked now. Gavin was in his house.

"My wife never complained." spluttered Troy.

"Can see why Cully wasn't into you," Ben went on, shooting a snotty look at Gavin's lap.

OK now he was being a bitch.

"You're a cunt," Gavin spat, "All gob no trousers."

"Haven't you got some footie to watch or a lads mag to wank over?" Ben went on, sipping his tea casually. He was loving this. Gavin was just getting more and pissed off and yet he wasn't leaving. What was this guy's game exactly?

"You'd like that wouldn't ya? Prick. And you make shit tea."

"See ya bye."

Ben couldn't be any less bothered if he tried.

And it was infuriating GAvin.

"I tried to say sorry but you're just being a cunt. Can't think what Barnaby sees in you. Bumboy. Faggot. Queer. BAttyboy."

"Grow up. Are you an Inspector or a chav?"

"BASTARD!"

Gavin had snapped. He yanked Ben to his feet and threw him against the living room wall, in a reverse of what happened outside the station earlier.

"Go on then, hit me," Ben challenged, "Gaybasher. WOn't look good on your record now will it Inspector?"

Ben hated himself but this power game was turning him on. He was showing that he had bigger balls than Troy. And he was loving it. Shame nobody else could see this.

"I'm fucking going," Gavin hissed, "I hope you get AIDs."

"Close the door on your way out there's a good boy," sassed Ben, dusting his top down.

Gavin's fury just rose some more. He couldn't help it. He stomped back to the living room and aimed a right hook at Ben's face. Ben dodged it and grabbed him in a nasty armlock.

"I could arrest you right now for attempting to assault a police officer," he hissed as Gavin struggled.

"You wouldn't..."

"I fucking would."

"You're off duty..."

"Get the fuck out of my house."

Gavin wriggled out and stared Ben down once more.

Their eyes blazed into one another's with sheer hatred.

Was it hatred?

Neither man knew which one made the first move but suddenly, their lips were smashing together furiously, their tongues wrestling for dominance. Ben fought Gavin off but the Northerner was as strong as he was and he ended up flat on his back on the sofa, his arms pinned down.

Gavin was gasping. Eyes flashing.

What the fuck just happened?

Was he just fucking snogging another bloke? Oh fuck! He was a bumboy!

He released Ben and stormed out of the living room. But he now had the biggest hardon raging in his pants. His chest was aching and his face was flushed. No. He can't be turned on by this! He loved women! He was normal. He was straight.

He turned back to look at Ben.

Who was laying on the sofa, his slim chest heaving in and out. And was staring right at him, his lip curling.

Ben then ran his tongue softly over his bottom lip. For a homophobic douchebag, Gavin Troy was a fucking good kisser.

"I'm...sorry..." mumbled Gavin.

"THis is a turnup," smirked Ben.

"Shut the fuck up."

"You're the one who just made out with me."

"To shut you up. Dick."

Ben got to his feet and padded over, looking as sultry and seductive as he'd ever been. Gavin couldn't take his eyes of this dark-haired, handsome Welshman. He realised just how good looking Ben was. And how much more lilty his Welsh accent was in this situation.

"Usually stick your tongue down guy's throats do ya?"

"No...you jumped on me. Queer. Trying to turn me."

Ben snorted.

Please.

This guy was so far back in the closet he was in fucking Narnia.

"Why don't you stay a little longer?" purred Ben, now in Gavin's space.

"Don't touch me. I gotta get back to Brackhampton..."

"You'll be lucky to go as far as Midsomer Worthy with a boner like that..." Ben smirked, eyes raking the tent in Gavin's suit trousers.

Gavin blushed.

"Pervert."

"You're the one who kissed me."

"Bollocks did I."

Gavin was glued to the spot. He just could not muster the energy or impulse to run. He'd acted in the heat of the moment and now he was so turned in he wanted to take that sassy Welsh tart upstairs and fuck him so hard he'll have trouble walking. Gavin wasn;t stupid. He'd done the odd girl up the arse in his time.

Ben pressed his lips back to Gavin's. This guy might be a class A dickweed but at least he was cute. And Gavin began to reciprocate, giving in to these repressed, unlocked desires at last. He moaned against Ben's lips, melting into the adorable Welshman's arms.

"See," purred Ben seductively, "Not so bad is it?"

"Weird..."

"Why?"

"You're a bloke."

"No shit..."

"Shut up and kiss me you prick."

They began to make out some more, Ben loosening Gavin's tie. Actually...he pulled it instead, bringing the dark-haired Northern Englishman closer for some even deeper kissing, grinding against him. Gavin began to tear Ben's baggy beige top off of him on instinct. Ben responded by ripping Gavin's white shirt open, buttons flying every where and shucking it off with his navy jacket. Now they were both shirtless.

"Follow me," snarled Ben, dashing upstairs. It was now or never.

Gavin stormed in hot pursuit. He had no idea what he was doing but all he knew was, he wanted to fuck Ben like no tomorrow. He undid his belt clumsily as he climbed the stairs, unbuttoning his trousers and unzipping his fly.

Ben couldn't get his sweatpants off fast enough. His red briefs were tented to breaking point.

Gavin kicked his trousers off as he stumbled into the bedroom. He hastily removed his shoes and black socks before taking in the sight of the cute Welshman. Ben was smooth from head to toe, a toned chest, slight six pack, long legs and narrow hips. And those red pants looked very good on him.

He'd never looked at another bloke quite like this before.

Ben took in Gavin. Slim but not as toned as him, a little hair on his chest. Plain black boxers with a pretty impressive tent.

He yanked Gavin to him and pulled him onto the bed, wrestling him to it soi he, Ben, was on top, grinding against him.

"Fuck...fuck...slow it down..." gasped Gavin, out of his depth already. This was so different from taking a woman to bed.

Ben didn't listen and his nimble hands whipped Gavin's boxers down.

"Fuckin'ell...oh fuck..." Gavin moaned as Ben's fingers stroked his hard cock.

Ben didn't want to ruin this moment by showing Gavin what to do. This was a rage and lust-fuelled encounter and he was gagging to take charge. He wanted to pin Gavin down and ride him until he begged for mercy. Ben might be a bottom but he could dominated if he fancied. He wriggled expertly down between Gavin's downy legs and took the other man's hardon into his mouth.

"Fuck..."

Ben was sucking him off like his life depended on it. Oh Ben felt such a slag after the past 24 hours but did he care? No. Not at all. He hadn't felt so fucking alive. Age hadn't slowed him down, no sir.

"Stop...stop..." groaned Gavin.

Ben slowly removed him from his mouth before shuffling up so he was straddling Gavin. The previously-straight-and-homophobic Gavin was now faced with a man's family jewels, encase in the tighest red pants he'd ever seen.

"Wanna take them off?" purred Ben.

Gavin nervously began to pull them down those smooth, slim thighs, the light of the room shining off Ben's faint V-lines..before being face to face with the length of muscle.

Did he wank him off, or did he suck him?

He stroked Ben gingerly.

"Good boy," moaned Ben, gasping as the fingers slipped over his balls and inside his thighs, "Keep doing that...yeah..."

He leaned down and claimd Gavin's lips again, wriggling to shuck his briefs completely off before resuming the play.

Gavin couldn't stop. He was hooked. He took back everything he ever said over the years. If this was what 'bumboys' did in bed then where did he sign up?

"Fuck this is so fucking wild..."

"Ain't even started yet," purred Ben.

He pulled Gavin upright and began to kiss him yet again, grinding their cocks together.

"I wanna fuck you so hard," Gavin hissed.

"Good cos I want you to," Ben bit down playfully on his lip, shuffling forward and rubbing his naked arse against Gavin's hardon.

"Have you any johnnies?"

Ben just snickered slightly patronisingly and reached into his bedside drawer. Always be prepared. This bed could tell some stories..

He tossed a condom and some lubricant to Gavin.

Gavin paled.

"I'm a bottom," Ben smirked, "Don't piss your pants."

"English?" Gavin raised his eyebrows.

"I take it up the arse," Ben explained. THat was layman's terms enough, right? For a douche like Gavin anyway. He rolled onto his back.

Instinctively, Gavin got between Ben's legs. Piece of piss. Just like shagging a girl really. He tore open the condom and unrolled it onto himself. He saw Ben open a little brown bottle and inhale it, moaning.

"What the fuck's that?"

"Poppers. Call yourself a copper."

"What does it do?"

"Relaxes ya. Try some."

Gavin reluctantly sniffed it. Wow. Head rush and a half. That was some good shit. His hardon seemed to get even harder.

He leaned between Ben's legs, aiming for his tight arse.

"Hey...might want to lube me up a bit!" snapped Ben.

"Oh...soz..."

Ben wouldn't ahve minded really rough sex right now but he wanted to walk tomorrow. He impatiently coated two fingers himself and began to prep himself with them, moaning sluttishly. Not that he needed much after Mark and Tim, the slag he was.

"Come here," he moaned, inhaling some more poppers.

Gavin leaned forward again as Ben rested his slim ankles on his shoulders...fuck...he was so fucking horny right now...he missed.

He tried again.

And missed.

"Slow down," whimpered Ben but he was getting more frustrated. He was so turned on. He hadn't been a straight guy's experiment for a few years! Some of the furious fire from that first kiss had burned out with Gavin's inexperience but that was OK...oh yes...

He threw his head back and moaned as Gavin at last entered him.

"Fucking hell you're tight..."

"I'm ten times better than any girl you've ever had."

"Money, mouth."

Gavin roughly pushed all the way inside the tight warmth...fuck this was unreal...he was gonna slip out any moment...Ben clenched around him...oh holy fuck this was something else...

"Go on then," Ben urged.

Gavin began to thrust in and out of him. Oh fuck. Damn...this was good...nothing like screwing a woman. And Ben was making a lot of noise. Mostly to feed his ego and spur him on but actually...oh fuck yeah...this straight guy was not half bad...in fact he was really good...more! He wanted more.

"Come on then!" Ben moaned, unsatisfied, "Or I'll fucking pin you to that bed and take what I want."

"Shut the fuck up and take it queerboy," spat Gavin, ego bruised and he began to screw Ben hard and fast, determined to assert who was boss and make this cocky queer submit. Take it you fag, go on. Ben's legs left his shoulders and locked around Gavin like a vice, as his slim body thrust back to meet Gavin's move ments.

Gavin continued to fuck him roughly, pinning him down and just taking what he wanted. Ben's moans and cries ringing in his ears.

"Don't stop..." whined Ben, "Please...don't stop.."

His prostate was being stabbed dead on in this positon and he couldn't get enough. He loved being the first time for someone. If Gavin could make him come that would be just perfect right now. Yes. More. He could handle it. He was letting himself go. He didn't care anymore. Fuck yes.

Gavin was close. So close. But he didn;t want to stop fucking this hot Welshman. He pulled out.

"You fucking..." snarled Ben.

"Bend over battyboy, I want to shag you doggie."

Ben was on all fours, arse up in a flash.

Gavin couldn;t believe what a slut Ben was.

He was inside him much easier and resumed pounding him hard. But Ben was sick of being taken from behind.

He turned and leaned up against Gavin for kisses.

Gavin sloppily kissed him.

"Pull out," he ordered.

"Fucking hell now what?"

"On your back."

Gavin did so.

Ben squirted more lube onto Gavin's hardon and straddled him before sliding down onto his length, hands pushed against the Northerner's chest and bouncing up and down, now in control, moaning, whimpering and cursing. He was getting closer...fuck yes...he was the boss now...the bed crashing back and forth, both men's gruff moaning filling the room. Ben was close...he always could come hands free on top...bit more...he was there...almost there...God he needed to just release...yes,...oh yes...his smooth, firm arse smashing against Gavin's pelvis...he could feel it building up...thundering through his slender body...yes...one more should do it...fuck...

Ben cried out...no...screamed as he exploded hard, his much-needed release showering his prey's untoned yet slim stomach beneath him.

That just did it for Gavin...he groaned and growled, driving up into the cute Welshman's tight body as he too, finally gave in and went over the edge, his release burning on its way out.

Both men were panting and gasping.

Wasn't quite the furious hate sex the initial kissing had promsied but if it wasn't amazing all the same...

Ben kissed Gavin before extricating himself, laying beside him.

"Fucking hell..." panted Gavin.

"You're good..." Ben moaned.

Gavin just smirked as he peeled the condom off himself.

"Really good," whimpered Ben, "Just what I needed.."

"Take back everything I ever said about bumboys, I haven't had a shag like that in years," Gavin conceded.

Ben pulled Gavin to him and began to kiss him somemore, hugging him. Normally he kicked guys out or got dressed and left once they were done. However, something was making him want to keep Troy around. Maybe it was because they were the same age? Both coppers? Both could laugh about Barnaby's shortcomings?

Gavin was enjoying this far more than he ever could have imagined. Yeah, OK, this predatory slut had just enticed him into his bed...but hey, Gavin could have said no.

"Want to stay the night?" asked Ben.

"Thanks mate," Gavin replied, "COuld use a drink though.."

Ben climbed his slender body over his latest conquest.

"Your arse.." breathed Gavin.

He leaned over and spanked it.

Ben slipped his briefs back on.

"I'm not your servant," he sniffed, "You want a drink, you can come get one."

Gavin reached for his boxers. He hadn't slobbed about in pants for a while. He followed Ben back down the stairs and watched the Welsh hottie fumble about in the drinks cabinet for his Scotch.

He poured two and led Gavin back into the lounge.

"Don't normally.." Gavin began but he took it anyway.

"Heres to your coming out," smirked Ben.

"I'm not bent," Gavin protested.

"Really? I've just had your cock inside me," Ben snarked, "COuld have fooled me. So what? Bent coppers...literally...do exist you know."

Gavin gulped his scotch down. He needed something strong. This was a headfuck and a half.

"So there many bumboys round here?" he asked.

"More than you think," Ben smiled philosophically, "Just because they may present a wife and kids, doesn't mean they go out on the prowl at night for a bit of man-a-man contact."

"How old were ya? When you realised?" asked Gavin.

"Fourteen. Saw the video to Relax...oh and Smalltown Boy made me question myself a little too. You know, by Bronski Beat?"

"Yeah," replied Gavin, "You were shagging lads at fourteen?"

"No...I'm from smalltown Wales," Ben sighed, "I wish though..Moved to Cardiff when I was 18 and lost my virginity the second day there. Haven't had a serious relationship for years. Comes with the job. Not everyone's like Joyce Barnaby. But I tell you, don't assume because I'm a rural detective sergeant from Wales that I've not been around.."

He winked at Gavin.

Gavin smirked. Ben was bloody good sex. And really quite nice company. Away from the trappings of policing, he was bold and sassy. And Gavin liked he seemed like he could hold his own in a fight.

"So ya gonna go find your next fuck tomorrow?" he challenged.

"Actually, I was gonna head down to Brighton, but if you wanted to stay...or you could come with me?"

"Not ready for that yet mate, I'm still trying to get my head round the fact I've just screwed a bloke full stop."

"I understand," purred Ben, downing his scotch and leaning over seductively, "Well we don't have to be up in the morning...do we?"

"I might just take some leave," Gavin replied.

"Good man," Ben began to kiss him some more.

"Here, hold your horses," Gavin laughed nervously, "I'm still spent.."

"Just enjoy the moment," Ben whispered. He kissed Troy on the lips yet again, "I like being woken up in the middle of the night."

"Jesus..." sighed Gavin, "You're one horny bastard..."

"Surprised? I may be the wrong side of 35 but I still know how to enjoy life," Ben sassed, taking his prey's empty glass and sashaying (Gavin's eyes fixed on that arse) to the kitchen.

"You sure do mate that's for sure," Gavin remarked, before looking down at himself. He felt distinctly chubby (he wasn't) compared to the leaner, toned Ben. Something in him was telling him he needed to impress this guy in order to taste more of this delicious forbidden fruit.

* * *

**CLiched? Yes. But to be honest I just wanted to get these two underrated British TV cuties into bed! I visited my parents recently and my mom put a couple of episodes on (she loves the series...I haven't mentioned this wee fic!) so I had a dose of both Troy and Jones and thus decided to add to this neglected story. I just love the idea that Ben's a lot more fast and loose outside of work. Hence why he swears a lot. I'm debating whether to bring his amazing singing voice in or not!**


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